Steph, I Need a Favor
by Roscommon
Summary: This is a oneshot based on Lulubelle09's challenge, which latched onto my soul and wouldn't let me rest until this story was born. Ranger needs a favor, but it's truly not easy for anyone. Rated T for language.


This is a one-shot based on Lulubelle09's challenge, which latched onto my soul and wouldn't let me rest until this story was born. I truly welcome comments and reviews, but please remember that this is my first written story in something like 15 years, so I'll appreciate your understanding if it's awkward in places.

I don't own these characters; nor do I make any profit. This story is purely for entertainment.

**Steph, I Need a Favor**

Shit.

I haven't seen Stephanie hardly at all since she moved to Newark two months after her old colleague at E.E. Martin called her out of the blue to head up the Buyers team in his goddamn boutique ladies' lingerie company. Like the world needs more expensive flimsy underwear. _¡Coño!_ This must be the freedom I go to the 'stans to fight for, dodging one fucking IED at a time. Of course, no surprise here, my Babe is outstandingly good at this. In a little over eight months on the job she's expanded their business and improved the bottom line to the point that they've given her a share of the business. Yeah, she's livin' large, now. There's no way she's ever coming back to roll in Vinnie's garbage. Or mine for that matter.

So now, my lawyer Len calls just days before I leave on my next mission, which honestly I took because it's at least a year away from here and will give me a clear focus for my misplaced adrenaline and aggression, given that there's a projected 8-percent chance of survival. That sure gets one's complete attention. It will be better than beating the crap out of my skips, which became enough of a problem that Tank had to take me out of the rotation a few months ago.

Anyway, I pay Len's firm something like the GNP of Madagascar every year to take care of my business proactively, but this he couldn't do ahead of time. _¡Jódame!_ Well, yeah, of course he couldn't. Some brilliant state legislators just passed a bill in the middle of the week with a frigging last-minute subparagraph that invalidates the whole structure I have in place to ensure my estate retains control over my daughter Julie's security in case of my demise or incapacitation. This is so incredibly not good (see the 8-percent survival projection above).

I admit it: The whole thing was a legal hack to begin with, a goddamn house of cards, but it was the best solution to secure everything I wanted. The legal situation is a mess, given that I'm resident in the friggin' Garden State, Julie is a minor in Florida with two resident parents, I gave up legal rights when she was a baby, and of course Rachel has decided that the only reason Julie is in ongoing danger is because both I'm a complete asshole and I'm alive. She right about the first part, but not the second part. And I can't tell Rachel why because its way beyond what she's authorized to know. I could tell her but I'd have to kill her.

Yeah, the joke that's not a joke.

To make matters worse, the arrangement in my will that just got invalidated specifically deals with Florida law and, though Ron may not be the brightest bulb in the tree, his family is just swimming with lawyers and old school Florida and DC politicians. Wonder how that surprise subparagraph appeared in a wetlands protection bill at the last minute...

After the brief Scrog thaw, it's Martine winter again and I'm locked out in the cold. Fuck.

So late last night, Len Rogers from Rogers, Bush & Chavez tells me the only way to fix this over the weekend before I deploy Monday, is for Stephanie to marry me. That's the only way this whole thing becomes incontestable in court.

Why, you ask? Well, Steph is the person designated to take over my guardian role and to continue my interests with Julie. I chose her on purpose: Everyone in my family would roll over fairly quickly just so the abuelas could keep contact with my daughter. The Martines wouldn't accept any of my brothers-in-arms in that role, not even my cousin Lester. We've been here before: Rachel would start screaming that we're all a bunch of assassins and what were we doing in Iran and El Salvador, which would definitely not help Julie's safety or help my lawyers win the case.

But Steph, she has a special place, having helped save Julie from that _pendejo_ Scrog she also has a continuing email relationship with her. When we tried dating for those four months that are etched in my memory, Stephanie's relationship with Julie and Rachel became stronger, so there's a bridge there. Finally, but by no means last on the list, Steph actually has a baseline notion of the dangers regarding Julie and is a pitbull when she needs to be. Yes, she's absolutely the best and only person for that particular mission.

If only she were speaking to me this would be so much easier. Well, much less difficult in any case. Fuckity fuck.

Alright, buck up soldier, the neighbors are going to start getting nervous that there's a fidgeting, dark skinned SWAT commando standing at the door of Maple Woods Estate #4 in Newark on Saturday morning. Being led off in cuffs; that's just exactly what I would need to make this day complete.

I knock on the door. I've done my recon and I know she's there. She's taking the day to prep for some maldito family party next week, where she and Joe plan to announce their engagement. This is my life: Steph finally gets a real job that's matches her intelligence and talent, she does some growing up, I do some screwing up, and Joe steps right in to be The Man. Just unbelievable.

I'd throw up if it weren't so un-badass.

I hear scuffling behind the door, and a pause for the peephole. Thank the gods my Babe has developed security consciousness. And at least she has ADT now; she worked with Hector to make sure she got a commercial system that would protect her, that she could use, and that wasn't Ranger's spyware. Hector made sure to tell me that last part, thanks Bro.

She opens the door. Part way, with her foot blocking the door. "Ranger, what the hell are you doing here?" She glares at me through the crack. Okay, this will be harder than I thought.

"Ba... um, Stephanie, something important has come up; I really need to talk to you right away."

"We'll I guess I should be glad that it's daytime and you actually knocked" she huffed as she opened the door. "Must be one of those signs of the apocalypse" I hear her mutter. Good. That means she still thinks out loud. I still have a tactical chance to make it through this conversation. "Alright Ranger, come in before Mrs. Lindsay calls the cops." I glance over my shoulder and see curtains ripple in the condo window across the courtyard. Hello Mrs. Lindsay.

"So, what's up Ranger? I'm kinda busy today." No softness in her voice. I sigh. I remember when she called me Carlos when we were alone, and her voice was like caress to my soul. She turns and strides to the kitchen, bends down to pull a plate from the dishwasher, and closes the dishwasher door with a neat leg hook. I nearly stop breathing for a moment, punched in the gut with a vivid reminder of other sinuous actions in the past that involved my Babe bending over in my own kitchen. _Dios_, what an utter fool I am.

"Ranger, remember how conversations with me work better when you use actual words?" She turns to walk over to the cabinet. Only my Babe has the ability, still, to totally un-man me. I completely forget the careful speech I'd worked up on the drive up from Trenton. My mind goes blank. That's the only explanation I can come up with for what I say next.

"Steph, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to marry me."

Silence. I wait.

I'm thinking again about whether it's possible to remain a badass after throwing up in front of others.

Steph slowly spins back to face me, her mouth open and eyes wide. The plate drops, crashing into shards.

"What the...? Ranger, is this your idea of a practical joke? Are you completely insane?" Her voice keeps getting louder. I'm now glad she doesn't still have that plate in her hand but I'm acutely aware that she's standing in front of a well-stocked plate and glassware arsenal. Guess her housewares tastes have grown up a bit, too.

"You have some nerve showing up here, after everything, you bastard, to say that!" Her eyes are the blue of the Caspian Sea before a storm and her arms are about to start waving. I know this body language; I need to get in front of this before she goes full Italian-Hungarian on me. Gallipoli here I come, unarmed into the breach against the furious adversary.

"Steph, I'm sorry, I can explain. I know I'm an idiot and that didn't come out right at all. Please, please let me tell you what I meant to say."

"Ya think? An idiot? You shouldn't even be allowed to speak. Ever. But, I am looking forward to that explanation, Ranger!" Thank God, her arms are crossed now. I may pass through the Dardanelles alive after all. I take a deep breath.

"Steph, you know how I have you set up to be Julie's guardian on my behalf, in case something happens? Well, just a couple days ago the law changed and the only way the existing arrangement will hold up in court is if you have standing as my wife."

Her eyes narrow, her foot starts tapping, her nostrils flare. "So change it, Ranger. People set up guardians for minors all the time. Surely there's another way." Her voice goes from loud to steady and cold at the very end. Once again I wondered what was wrong with me, that I'd pushed this force of nature out of my life. I remember when she had used this stunning, unyielding fervor to defend me to her family, and even once to my handler. Well, if I'm outstandingly lucky I'll have over a year to continue breathing and I can discuss this very question with goats and sand-fleas in any number of godforsaken hideouts.

"Steph, I'm due to be shipped out on Monday; I go incommunicado at 04:00 that morning. My lawyers are researching how to build a new scaffold for this whole mess to hang from, but even if they figure it out today they can't get it done in time for me to sign and execute incontestably before I leave. Believe me, I've grilled them on this." Her eyes are still narrow, her foot is still tapping; the hordes are still awaiting their chance to ride down the hill and bayonet me for the glory of the cause. "Steph, you know Len is the smartest SOB I could hire, but he tells me this is the only thing to do with such short notice."

"You are just unbelievable, Ranger. You are a complete piece of work." Her arms are crossed, but the foot has stopped tapping. I hear her mutter something that sounds like "what I wouldn't have given a year ago to hear this, you just torture me" and I almost leave right then. How can I keep doing this to her? But then, I remember why I'm here. I take a deep breath.

"Steph, I know, and I'm so sorry. Really, for everything. If it weren't about Julie... if there were a different way to do this, I wouldn't be here today to bother you." I know my face is haggard, showing everything I'm feeling. And, what I'm feeling is like is Hell. Honestly, it's like having my skin ripped open. And it's the only way this works. "Steph, you need to know. This mission is a really bad one and I'm worried I won't come back. There's a better than even chance that I won't. I need to know that Julie is taken care of, before I leave. If I'm thinking about her, worried what will happen to her... I just need to know you'll be there for her."

Silence. Something flashes across her face but it's too fast for me to catch. Her face is still marvelously expressive but I don't have the key to read it anymore. She gazes at me for what has to be at least five minutes. Lots of silence for my Babe. I can see her thinking. Really, she's always had all the power when I played even remotely fair. This has been one of the mysteries and wonders of my life since I met her.

"Okay, it's about Julie, I get that." Then she quietly adds under her voice, to herself, "And jeez this is just too incredibly stupid a plan for it to be a ploy to get me back."

Thanks Babe. But you're right. it's not a ploy.

She sighs and motions me to one of her kitchen chairs while she walks to another. From habit, I watch to make sure she doesn't twist an ankle or cut herself on one of the plate shards and sits down safely before I myself sit down. Okay, we've laid down our weapons, I'll survive this one, now it's just down to terms of surrender. I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Look, Ranger, here's the deal. I don't know if you're aware, because why would you care, but Joe and I have been planning to announce our engagement at a big family gathering next week. It's not public news yet, but not exactly a big secret either. Anyhow, this isn't a decision I can reach unilaterally. Joe is coming over for lunch, so why don't you wait until he gets here." She looks down at her hands briefly and murmurs something that I can't quite hear. Then she looks back up to meet my eyes and adds, "You should work on a better opening sentence than what you used with me." Then she stands up. "I have things to do, but you can stay here in the kitchen. Joe should be here within the hour."

Great. Just great. Let me bend over now and get it over with.

Bending over for a different reason, I clean up the broken plate and then just sit and wait, listening to her move around in her condo. I probably look like I'm in what my Babe used to call "my zone." It's really that I prefer being silent and focused while I think and I don't want people to read my thoughts from my face. Back then it was so much more fun to have Steph think it was part of my fascinating mystery.

Yup, I'm an idiot. She called that one right.

When Joe arrives, Steph heads him off at the door and explains to him why I am here, the situation with Julie and my legal maneuvers. I guess she's taken pity on me and decided to help me through the first part of my explanation. Well, I had bolloxed it pretty completely when I first arrived. I sit in the kitchen chair listening to them in the entryway, amazed that Steph still tries to help me, even when I am a complete butthead. Just like how she got me out of jail once when I richly deserved to be there, how she risked herself for me time and again back in Trenton, and how she defended me to Rachel in the darkest days when the Martines had tried to revoke my rights to see Julie at all. Here she is, defending me to her fiancé after I've asked to completely hose their engagement and wedding plans. What an amazing woman. Yes, just absolutely the right person for Julie. That brings me out of my dark thoughts, and I stand as they enter the room.

"Ranger." Joe nods.

"Joe." I nodded back.

"So you need to explain this a whole lot better. A whole lot." All three of us sit back down and I see that Joe has his cop face on. It's not exactly my blank face; it's more of a professional "don't give me crap" look. I fight against my reflex, try to keep my face from going completely blank in reaction to him. I know he and Steph both need to see my sincerity, and my sorrow, for them to really hear what I have to say. It's agony; all I want to do is hide my feelings. But, there you go, you have to risk something to gain everything. Steph tried to teach me this but I was too stupid, or really just too proud, to learn it the first time when it really mattered.

I start over with Joe, explaining that I need to protect Julie in my absence and even after my death. I explain as much as I can about why, telling him about the threat both domestically from MS-13 from Lester's and my gang-busting missions and internationally from a couple of specific weapons dealers whose fortunes and family futures we had not enhanced. He's a cop, so I know he'll get it. But I see his eyes narrow, now. His fists clench. He looks at me.

"You asshole, that is totally fucked up, and I'm really sorry for your girl. I remember her; she has a lot of spirit. She doesn't deserve this crap. But Ranger, dammit, why on earth did you involve Steph in this? You have a whole security company you can pay to do this. Didn't you think for a minute about the danger you're putting her in?" I see a vein pulsing on his forehead. "How dare you drag my fiancée back into your psycho life?"

Steph shifts in her chair. She didn't like how he phrased that. I know that look but I'm not trying to instigate a fight between them. Not now. So I just say, "It's an arrangement we worked out a couple of years ago. Steph was involved in the planning. Steph isn't in danger, she isn't Julie's security." I look at her and add, "Steph is there to ensure that my security arrangements get continued. It's like she approves the contracts. Otherwise Rachel would cancel the arrangements because she hates living with guards." Steph nods, that's what she remembers, too. Of course, that's not the full arrangement; Steph is also my executor, inherits half of my Rangeman share, is designated as my heir who can step in for Julie if anything happens to Rachel and Ron, and she controls Julie's trust fund until she's 25.

Steph doesn't know any of that. Joe, however, is looking suspicious, like maybe he's figuring out that there must be more to the arrangement. To forestall questions, I continue forward into more risky territory. Yeah, this should distract them.

I turn back to Joe. "When we put together those plans, Steph could fill the role to protect Julie without being related to me. But the law in Florida just changed and now she needs to be related. We can call my lawyer and have him explain it. This mission is for about a year. As soon as I'm back, my lawyers say they will have figured out a better plan and we can put through the divorce right away. No fault."

I don't bother adding that, in the more likely case of my death on this mission, there won't be any need for that unsavory divorce proceeding.

Joe nods and Steph leans forward; they need to hear from the lawyers. I call Len and put him on speakerphone so he can explain it in detail. I'd briefed Len this morning and he knows what to discuss, and what to keep private, so the discussion stays on track. It helps that Steph knows Len and can assure Joe that he's top notch. (Or, as she says to Joe "he's a complete a-hole who'd crush the opposition with his ninja law skills." Yeah, that's about right, Babe, and you're not too far off on the ninja guess, either.) Len keeps it cool, though there is a lot of yelling. Joe yells at me, Steph yells at Joe, Joe and Steph yell at each other, they both yell at me… and then the dam completely breaks. The phone call ends and Joe looks at me. "Ranger, goddamit to hell," he yells, "why should I even care about this? Why should I get involved when she's your daughter from some fucked up one night stand?" I know he doesn't mean this, that he's just at his wit's end. But I open my mouth anyway to launch back when Steph leans forward, anger on her face, her hair a mad halo.

"No!" She yells and points her finger at me. "You! You don't get to say anything! It's your stupid lack of caring about other people that got you into this mess in the first place." Then she turns like an avenging fury to Joe. "And you! How dare you? I love Julie. Just like I love Mary Alice. Just like Angie." Joe gets visibly more pale as she keeps jabbing her finger at him. "Would it be okay to walk away if they were in danger? Would you just leave them home alone to be kidnapped or hurt? Because if that's okay, we really have nothing more to talk about." She pauses to draw a gasping breath. She's a vision to behold. I see Joe swallow. "Joe, I think this is maybe the stupidest plan I've ever been involved with, and that's saying something, but you don't leave children defenseless, even if their parents are complete and utter idiots!" I look at Joe again. We're both in shock. But I don't know if I've ever been as proud of my Babe than I am right now. I feel the anger and pain that have been welding my nerves into iron rods start to dissipate. I feel like I can breathe again for the first time since I agreed to this mission.

More quietly, Joe asks why she hadn't ever mentioned this little entanglement with me before and Steph, her face staring to calm, answers that she figured I'd made other plans, by now.

We talk some more, and finally start to discuss the alternatives for about another two hours. We talk briefly about what it would mean if their plans are deferred for a year. Though it makes me ill to say it, I point out that, even if I get the paper security for Julie through this arrangement, Joe is here with Steph all year while I'm away. At the end of it, Joe is not happy but they both look thoughtful, like they're considering if this would work. I'm wrung out and feel like I've just sat through a court martial followed by a funeral, but I'm cautiously hopeful.

We make plans for me to come back after dinner, to give them time to consider. To think about the ramifications. Shit, I don't know, maybe they'll spend the time hurling some of those plates at each other or to having wild sex until they can't yell anymore. _Dios_, I'd really rather not think about what they'll do while I'm out. Len has pulled strings, so if they agree tonight we can drive to New Brunswick tomorrow and tie the proverbial knot. They have time to decide. Only, not a lot of it.

Just like me.

When I return that evening, having sat in a park for hours nursing a headache while on the phone with Tank, the lawyers, and everyone I needed to notify of my impending departure, Steph and Joe look as exhausted as I feel. But, they look resigned and Steph looks determined. I'm relieved when she looks up and tells me that they've decided they can do this. For Julie.

It's a hack, but she's figured out what they can tell Steph's family and Joe's mother to explain the delay. Since Steph lives in Newark now and Joe is in the process of relocating to Jersey City, they won't have to explain themselves to friends and family too much. And, after all, their newest drama will be forgotten soon enough, supplanted by the next ridiculous scandal that affixes itself to the neighborhood like a giant gossip barnacle. Further, Steph has figured out the anti-gossip she can plant in the Burg to make this work. Joe looks at me like he'd like to arrest me and send me to Guantanamo tied naked to a pine tree, and grinds out that needs me to sign something that says I promise to divorce Steph upon my return. I sign, and Steph promises to keep it hidden, and to shred and burn it when this is over.

After all is said and done, my fate and Julie's safety are in my Babe's hands, and I am oddly more at ease than I have been in months.

The next morning we meet in New Brunswick where Len's college roommate is a justice of the peace, and he pronounces me and Steph "man and wife." I kiss her on the cheek, wishing I was kissing her back into my life for good, but then I pull away. She is crying, her beautiful blue eyes awash with tears. I taste them on my lips like a salty holy wine, and a few drip down to my right hand, my gun hand, when I reflexively reach out to touch her cheek. I pull my hand back: Though she just married me I have no right to comfort her. She will add my name to her mailbox, store some of my clothes in her condo, and set up other telltales so we look married if its legally challenged. But my hand doesn't belong on her cheek to brush her tears away. I almost break down, right then and there.

I have no words but she looks up, resolute. "Ranger, I'm sorry things worked out this way, but if anything happens I'll make sure Julie is safe."

Quietly, I answer, "Babe, that means more to me than you know. It's everything. I promise when I come back from this one I'll try to be a better friend, just like you've always been the best of friends to me." She nods solemnly and then turns to walk away, back over to Joe. I hear her murmur to herself, "What a mess, all I ever wanted was him to love me back, I don't get why he didn't fix this months ago so he could finish writing me out of his life like he wanted."

I sigh to myself as she keeps walking away. No Babe, i think to myself, I loved you back so fiercely that I scared myself. I never wanted to write you out of my life; I just didn't know how to write my own life so you would be in it with me. It was just a big failure of imagination and willpower on my part. My Babe overflows with those two virtues so can't fathom that I lacked them when it was most important. I brush my hand across my eyes and realize I've started to cry, too. I can't remember the last time I cried. Her tears mingle with mine on the back of my hand as I watch them get in Joe's POS car, each opening their own door and stepping in like they're coming together from separate worlds. As they drive away, Joe faces forward, never looking at me, his face a mask. Steph looks at me through the passenger window. She is sad but I can't fully read her expression. She doesn't look away until they turn the corner and drive out of my sight. I raise my hand to my lips like a child to taste the sweet union of our tears.

Next morning, as I get on the plane in the dark, I am exhausted, run through the ringer. But yet, having spent 36 hours with Stephanie back in my life, even as fragmented time, I feel renewed in some odd way. My heart feels heavy, but somehow more solid and real for the first time in a year or more. I feel it beat in my chest like a pigeon flapping its wings. I suddenly realize that I do want to come back alive, after all. I want to see how that whirlwind, that marvelous, contrary, audacious woman goes through her life. I want her to know that I never, ever want her written out of my life, even if she belongs to another due to my own stupidity.

God, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to bring me back alive one more time. Just this once. For her. And for Julie. Please.

I leave on a wing and a prayer.


End file.
